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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22597861">Forgotten, Remembered</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedi_WRECK_tor/pseuds/thedi_WRECK_tor'>thedi_WRECK_tor</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Man Formerly Known As Casalt [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Outer Worlds (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Emotional Baggage, Gen, Identity Issues, Internal Conflict</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 11:34:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,192</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22597861</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedi_WRECK_tor/pseuds/thedi_WRECK_tor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Casalt.</p><p>That’s what he had been called so many years ago, back on Earth. Back when he’d been a nobody; just another nameless cog in a relentless machine. He’d been a low-level laborer, one of the dozens of forgettable faces on a factory assembly line, breaking their backs day in and day out for men they would never even meet.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Man Formerly Known As Casalt [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1625950</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Forgotten, Remembered</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Apparently this game is what it took to break through my many years of depression-imposed creator's block. Who woulda thought? Just as self indulgent, and just as short. I'm thinking I'm gonna do a whole series on this captain, because I'm having a lot of fun playing him, especially since I started over and made him dumb as a rock.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He’s elbow-deep in wooly-cow manure, trying to find a tool of Parvati’s that one of the beasts may or may not have slurped up, when he suddenly remembers his name.</p><p>Casalt.</p><p>That’s what he had been called so many years ago, back on Earth. Back when he’d been a nobody; just another nameless cog in a relentless machine. He’d been a low-level laborer, one of the dozens of forgettable faces on a factory assembly line, breaking their backs day in and day out for men they would never even meet. </p><p>He stood, peeling off the thick leather gloves he’d found to dig through the manure. Casalt. That man felt like an entirely different person now. Like a character in one of Felix and Parvati’s aetherwave serials. Phineas had told him the memory loss was a side effect of the extended cryosleep, and that it would likely lift in a very abrupt manner. He had to give the old man props: he apparently knew what he was talking about. Because, very abruptly, Alex-... er, Casalt, remembered everything. </p><p>He had been so confused when he’d first woken up, barely cognizant of what was happening. He hadn’t been able to remember practically anything about where he’d come from, who he was, or even his own name. All he’d known was he was being launched into space by a man who looked as though he’d stuck a fork in an electrical socket, and that he’d landed on an alien planet in hostile territory. There hadn’t been time to remember himself, back then. </p><p>Ale-...Cas-... uh. The Captain tossed the gloves into a bin and sat on a nearby crate, watching the wooly-cows low to one another as they ambled around the storage bay. Now that there was time to remember, he was having difficulty reconciling the two identities. Casalt had been a miserable drone who had “won” a lottery. Alex Hawthorne was the dashing captain of the freelancer ship The Unreliable. He was a slayer of beasts, a righter of injustices. Casalt hadn’t been any of those things: hadn’t been interesting at all. </p><p>Of course, there were people who had known Alex Hawthorne before he became the champion of justice and fairness and reform that he was now. Lilya, Udom. They’d known he was an imposter from the first, but now even they called him Hawthorne. He was Alex Hawthorne. It had been his first real choice of this new life, taking the name for himself. </p><p>Alex Hawthorne.</p><p>“Hey Boss.” He started a little at Felix’s voice, and turned to look at the man as he slid down the ladder. “Did you--aww, dammit!” He had landed in one of the manure patties, the foul mess squelching wetly beneath his boot. Ca… Alex… Casalt… The Captain watched him with a faint smirk as he hoped around and tried to shake the poop from his shoe. “I hate these things, Boss, I’m with ADA. We gotta stop taking live deliveries.”</p><p>“Yeah. Maybe.” He drummed his fingers on his knee, looking at one of the ambling beasts and getting lost in thought until suddenly there was a hand waving in his face.</p><p>“Terra-2 to Captain Hawthorne.” Felix said, startling him out of his thoughts. “I asked if you found Parvati’s dohickey yet.”</p><p>The Captain shook his head. “Nah. If one of them ate it, it ain’t passed yet.”</p><p>Felix hummed, scraping his boot against the floor to try and knock more manure from it. “Maybe SAM snagged it again. Bucket’a bolts is always making off with our things.” He tapped his heel on the ground, then finally looked over at the Captain. “You good boss? You kinda seem... razzed. Not in a good way either.”</p><p>Alex… Cas…</p><p>He frowned and shrugged, standing up and knocking his hands against his pants for want of something to do, as if he could beat away his own swirling thoughts. “Headache.” He grunted. “Think I’m gonna turn in.” </p><p>“Oh, alright Boss.” Felix watched the Captain go, a confused tilt to his head. “Sleep tight, don’t let the deep-space lice bite.” </p><p>---</p><p>Casa--Alex… Ugh! He dropped into his bunk and dropped his head into his hands, grumbling to himself. </p><p>He’d been fine, aside from being covered in cow shit, before the sudden deluge of memories sucker punched him like a marauder high on Adrena-Time. He had, for the most part, gotten over the initial crises of waking up from cryo-sleep without any memory of his name or past. He’d slotted himself into the stolen identity of Alex Hawthorne and made himself comfortable there: the identity of dashing space captain was interesting. It was important.</p><p>It was cool.</p><p>Casalt hadn’t been any of those things. The most interesting thing about him had been his keg standing prowess. Nyoka had shattered his record within an hour of them landing on the Groundbreaker with her for the first time, though.</p><p>“You seem troubled, Captain.” ADA’s voice crackled over the intercom, sounding alive and concerned, despite her constant insistence that she was neither.</p><p>Casalt lifted his head and rubbed his hands roughly over his knees. “Maybe…” He answered. He stood again and walked over to the bay of windows that took up the entire front wall of his quarters, leaning against the sill and staring out at the infinite void ahead of the ship. He was quiet for a moment, his fingers drumming against the sill. “Hey… Ada?” He called.</p><p>“Yes, Captain?”</p><p>“What if…” He hesitated, then turned and dropped into his desk chair. “What if… what if I wasn’t Alex Hawthorne?”</p><p>“Then you would not be Captain of this ship, Captain.”</p><p>He inhaled sharply and huffed the air back out. “Okay but… But what if I was… the captain, but also not?”</p><p>“I’m sorry, Captain.” ADA’s voice sounded bemused, just like the rest of the crew’s did half the time whenever he opened his mouth. “I’m not sure I understand.”</p><p>“What if…” He paused, scratching idly at the arm of his chair with his thumb. “What if I had a different name?”</p><p>“This ship is registered under the ownership of one Alex Hawthorne.” Was ADA’s reply. “For me to continue serving under you, Captain, you would have to be Alex Hawthorne.”</p><p>He nodded, his gaze distant. “What if… what if I sold the ship to someone else?” He asked. “What if it changed ownership?”</p><p>ADA was quiet, and after a moment Casal… Alex… He turned to look at the camera jutting from the wall. “Are you dissatisfied with… the crew?” </p><p>He was certain she was going to ask if he was dissatisfied with her, and he quickly shook his head. “No, no. I’m satisfied but… just… curious. How hard would it be to… register the ship under a different captain?” </p><p>Again, ADA was silent for a moment, and he could practically hear her processors working overtime as she drew her own conclusions. She was pretty smart, however much she wanted to put that down to programming. “Would you like to register a new captain, Captain?” She finally asked.</p><p>Casalt. Alex. Casalt. Captain Hawthorne. Alex, Casalt. Alex, Casalt. Captain.</p><p>“No, ADA.” He finally answered. “No, it’s fine.”</p>
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